


Open Arms

by palmsandsunshine



Series: Self-Indulgent OiKage Fics [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!, 蛍火の杜へ | Hotarubi no Mori e
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsandsunshine/pseuds/palmsandsunshine
Summary: Tobio-chan was a little brat. Then a young boy. Then a teenager. And next summer, he would be a young adult. Oikawa wished to touch him multiple times. Like one day on their third summer together when Tobio skinned his knee and started crying, Oikawa wanted to dry his tears and comfort him. Or another day, when Tobio was ten and he had a leaf stuck in his hair from crawling through the bushes and Oikawa wanted to pluck it out. And yesterday, when Tobio—finally a young man and about to graduate junior high school—looked up at him through his lashes and sent the barest of smiles through blue popsicle-stained lips. Oikawa ached to reach out and taste the blueberry smile for himself. But that would mean he wouldn’t be able to see Tobio anymore, and somehow, that was even more painful.Hotarubi no Mori e but with Kageyama and Oikawa
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Self-Indulgent OiKage Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700014
Comments: 28
Kudos: 300





	1. A Flipbook of Summers

**Author's Note:**

> I cried when I first watched this movie. And then I needed a happy ending. And then I needed a Haikyuu AU with Oikage.
> 
> Please watch Hotarubi no Mori e before reading this. It's not only a beautiful movie that deserves much more attention, but you probably won't understand this without the movie as context. I didn't thoroughly explain everything as well as I should have.
> 
> The movie is only 45 minutes and it's a quick watch. Trust me, it's worth it.

Somehow, Oikawa found the young boy in the forest. He didn’t really know how or why. He was just wandering the forest one random summer’s day and came across a little human, balled up in the grass and crying.

The young boy’s eyes were red and swollen, and he was kind of a mess, but even so, his raven-black hair hung perfectly over his forehead. In the small beams of light that managed to peek through the trees, Oikawa could make out a slight blue undertone to his hair, like the deepest night sky alight with stars.

Somehow, his dark blue eyes met Oikawa’s and a look of pure relief swept over his face before he was barrelling towards Oikawa with his arms outstretched and crying in relief instead of sorrow.

Oikawa dodged his arms easily, simply side-stepping out of the way. The boy, too caught up in his emotions and far too unsteady on his feet, flew past Oikawa with impressive speed. He stumbled a little before coming to a stop.

This boy was obviously going to be a good athlete. He had the speed and agility for it.

Oikawa had to dodge a few more times before the boy tumbled to the ground after tripping on an exposed tree root. Oikawa had enough and attempted to explain himself.

“I can’t touch humans. If I do, I’ll disintegrate,” he said, the mask over his face slightly muffling his voice. He hoped he could still be understood, though. Unless the boy was just so stupid that the words registered like a foreign language. Did he even speak Japanese? Maybe Oikawa’s Japanese was so old and dated that no one could understand him anymore.

The young boy simply tilted his head to the side, his silky black hair following the movement with ease, like a pour of thick black ink. “Are you a god?”

Oikawa giggled, tilting his head the same way the boy did. “Do I look like a god?”

“I’ve never seen a god before, so I don’t know…”

Oikawa sat down on his knees in front of the boy, grabbing a twig off the ground just in case he needed to defend himself. It wouldn’t do much but it would hopefully be a deterrent, should the young boy approach. Speaking of which...

“What’s your name?” Oikawa asked.

“I’m Tobio. I came here for summer to visit my uncle. But I live in Miyagi.”

“I don’t know where Miyagi is.”

“You don’t?!” A tinge of incredulously painted Tobio’s voice, lifting his pitch higher and higher. His eyes were wide and exposed the outermost edges of his blue pupils. “But Mama says Miyagi is really big and has a lot of people.”

Oikawa shrugged and began to peel bark off the twig absentmindedly. “I’ve lived in this forest for as long as I can remember, Tobio-chan. I don’t know much about the outside world.”

“Oh,” Tobio sat on his knees, mirroring Oikawa. He folded his hands in his lap, sitting upright and attentive. “How old are you?”

“Very old.”

“You don’t look old,” Tobio protested. “You look like my big cousin. He’s seventeen years old. He has a younger brother that’s thirteen.”

“I’m much older than seventeen or thirteen.”

Tobio rolled his eyes and, if Oikawa remembered correctly, that would probably be disrespectful when talking to an older person. But Oikawa didn’t call him out. 

“What’s your name, Kami-sama?”

“I’m not a god. My name is Oikawa Tooru. That’s what the spirits here named me.”

“Oikawa-sama, where—”

“I’m not a god!” Oikawa cut the boy off. “I told you this already.”

“Oikawa- _ san _ .”

“Better.”

Tobio dropped his gaze to the grass, plucking a few strands out with thin, knobby fingers. “Do you know how to get back to the village? I was playing in the park and didn’t realize how far I went into the forest.”

Oikawa sighed and sent Tobio a small smile even if he couldn’t see it because of the mask. “I’ll show you the way. Here,” he stood up from the grass, brushing off the stray bits of leaves and grass that stuck to his pants, “grab the other end of this stick. I’ll bring you back to the trail.”

Tobio dutifully followed, wrapping his fingers around the stick and keeping a far distance away from Oikawa’s body. 

Oikawa led Tobio through the forest, up a few worn stone steps, and to the very top of the tallest hill, where the ruins of an old stone Torii sat. He pointed down the other side.

“Follow those steps all the way to the park. Don’t go off the path. The spirits will lure you deeper into the forest and you’ll never find your way out.”

Tobio suddenly curled in on himself, a pout playing on his lips.

“Oikawa-san, will I see you again?”

Oikawa crouched down in front of the young boy. “If you come back tomorrow, I’ll wait for you here. You have to promise not to go into the forest, though. Stay on the path.”

“Okay!” Tobio bounced back up, eyes alight with excitement. He began down the steps, turning back to wave to Oikawa. “See you tomorrow, Oikawa-san!”

“Tobio-chan! Watch where you’re going. You might trip.”

* * *

Tobio was eight. Three years since their first meeting. And each summer that they met, Tobio grew taller and taller. By this point, his skinny limbs looked even skinnier with each centimeter he gained. And he didn’t have much muscle on him since he was still so young.

“Are the spirits in this forest nice?” Tobio asked, swinging around a twig he had picked up off the path, using it like a play-sword. He stood a good arm’s-length away from Oikawa, using the twig to poke at Oikawa’s arms in case he needed to catch his attention.

“They saved me when I was a baby, so I’d say so. They gave me a second chance at life.”

Tobio frowned—which looked much more like a pout with his youthful face—and kicked away a pebble that lay in the path. “I don’t think they like me.”

“That’s because you’re a brat.”

“Hey!”

“It hurts because it’s true, Tobio-chan.”

Suddenly, Tobio let out a massive roar and lifted the stick high above his head like a samurai about to charge his opponent. Oikawa knew from prior experience that this meant a chase would soon ensue, so he bolted down the forest path, giggling as he went along.

Tobio’s laugh resounded behind him, high and drifting like feathers on the summer breeze. When they came to a clearing full of long grass and clovers, Oikawa sped up, using his longer legs to his advantage.

He was panting hard by now, unused to sprinting in the heat.

Suddenly, a quiet ‘ _ oof _ ’ sounded out behind him, as well as a thump and rustle from something hitting the grass.

Oikawa stopped his momentum as quickly as possible, whirling around to run back to the boy.

Tobio was still face-down in the grass while Oikawa approached and he nearly had a heart attack until the boy used his hands to roll himself over onto his back and sit up. He cradled his skinned knee with delicate hands, wincing as he brushed grass from the wound.

“Are you okay, Tobio-chan?”

“I… y-yes.”

Oikawa hadn’t seen Tobio cry before. He had only seen the boy laughing and smiling, framed by rays of sun and inky black-blue hair. But he knew that the watery eyes, and wobbling bottom lip were signs of an upcoming breakdown.

Tobio didn’t cry like Oikawa expected him to. He didn’t sob loudly or wail helplessly. Much like his personality, Tobio cried silently, thoughtfully, and small. He curled into a little ball, doing as much as possible to avoid jostling his injured knee, as his body shook with suppressed little sobs that wracked his frame violently.

Oikawa wanted to wipe the tears away. He wanted to brush the too-long bangs away from Tobio’s swollen and red eyes and maybe lay a gentle kiss to his hair. He wanted to fix the injury and make the hurt go away, make Tobio stop crying and return the smile to his face.

For the first time in his long, long life, Oikawa really resented his curse. The pain of not being able to touch Tobio in such a vulnerable state might’ve been more painful than dying a premature death as an infant, before the spirits of the forest could save him.

* * *

“What did you do this year in school, Tobio-chan?”

“I learned a sport!”

“Which one?”

“Volleyball!”

“Sounds boring.”

“It is  _ not _ !”

* * *

“Boo!”

Tobio swung down from a tree branch, hanging from his knees. Oikawa jumped back, clutching his chest in mock surprise.

“Wah! There’s a monster attacking me!”

Tobio giggled at the act, and Oikawa felt each giggle chime and echo in his brain. He laughed along with Tobio, covering the eyeholes of the mask and cowering backwards. 

Tobio’s loose shirt then flipped inside-out and covered his face. He struggled with it for a few seconds before the branch began to break, taking Tobio down with it.

In a moment of absolute panic, Oikawa reached out to try and catch Tobio before he could hit the ground, but his brain caught up with instinct and he retracted his arms quickly. He nearly cursed out loud at his own foolishness. His protective nature, after years of looking after a much-too-clumsy-Tobio, nearly got him killed.

Thankfully, Tobio landed in a thick bush, effectively softening his fall, although he still groaned at the impact. He took a quick assessment of his limbs, checking for any scrapes or broken bones as Oikawa watched carefully. When he found none, Tobio sighed in relief.

He then lifted his head, eyes filled with remorse and guilt, even though he had done nothing wrong. It broke Oikawa’s heart to see such a cheerful boy look so sad.

“Oikawa-san, promise me you’ll never touch me.”

There was a single leaf in Tobio’s hair from landing in the bush. Oikawa wanted to reach over and pull it out. It took all his self-restraint to keep his hands steady.

With a nod, Oikawa said simply: “Sure.”

* * *

“Oikawa-san, why do you wear a mask?”

“Doesn’t it make me look like a spirit?”

Tobio seemed to study the mask very seriously, tracing over each line and color with his eyes. He shrugged, jostling his makeshift fishing pole and causing a ripple in the water. It probably scared away all the fish.

“It makes you look stupid,” Tobio finished, a definitive sound in his voice.

Oikawa sputtered, reeling back with a wheeze-laugh on his breath. “You think so?”

“I think you’re handsome without the mask,” Tobio said simply, turning back to the fishing pole in his hand.

Oikawa wheezed again. This time, for a different reason, though.

“Oikawa-san, why can’t you touch anyone?” Tobio asked.

Thankful for the change of subject and the mask covering his red cheeks, Tooru answered. “I can touch spirits, but not humans. I used to be a human but the spirits here gave me immortality.”

“So you’re a really old human.”

“Yes.”

“But you look like my cousin. His name is Kakeru. He’s sixteen,” Tobio said, very matter-of-factly.

“I’m eighteen.”

“No, you’re a grandpa.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

* * *

“You look older,” Oikawa observed in as much of a monotonous tone as he could muster. Tobio spun around, showing off his new middle school summer uniform: a navy blue pair of pants, a white polo shirt, and a black tie.

“That’s because I  _ am _ older, stupid. I’m in middle school now.”

The muscles in Tobio’s body had slowly but surely began to fill out, replacing his too-skinny appendages with the gently-toned limbs of a junior athlete. The definition of his arms was even more evident when he ran through his setter drills: the things his middle school volleyball coach told him to practice if he wanted to be a starter on the team in his second year. 

Tobio gained a few more inches from last year, and his voice had begun to deepen from a youthful whine to the soft tenor of a preteen. Oikawa wondered if his voice would continue to deepen to a baritone or bass as time went on, or if he would forever have the gentle lilt of the summer in his words.

“Well, I’m older than you. Stop being so disrespectful.”

“You look like a high-schooler. I’m not going to treat you too differently than I would treat my friends and classmates.”

“Wow. I feel so honored to be considered a friend of Tobio-chan’s,” Oikawa deadpanned.

Tobio frowned, a deep-set habit that reminded Oikawa of his youth; when Tobio’s frown looked more like a pout and made him seem like a spoiled brat.

“You’re one of my first friends, Oikawa-san,” Tobio said quietly,  _ truthfully _ , as he caught the blue and yellow volleyball and held it in his hands to look at Oikawa. “You know me better than anyone else.”

Oikawa didn’t know what to say. He looked down at his clenched hands, hearing his breathing echo throughout the inside of his mask. The truth of the statement caught him off-guard. From what he heard from Tobio’s stories, Tobio didn’t have many friends, let alone close friends. Oikawa was the one person he felt comfortable being himself with, and Oikawa didn’t meet very many people throughout the year.

Suddenly, the urge to know even more, to monopolize every aspect of Tobio, grew.

“Tobio-chan, why don’t you teach me how to play volleyball? And then leave the ball here when you’re gone so I can practice when you’re not here.”

* * *

“Are you doing well on your school team? Shouldn’t you be practicing with them over the summer? Especially since you’re going to a competitive school,” Oikawa asked as he set to Tobio one day.

Tobio jumped into the air, spiking the ball into the ground with ease, where it bounced once before being caught by the long, cushioned grass. “I can take a week and a half off but I have to go back home early to return to summer practice. I’m missing out on a training camp, but that’s okay.”

“That’s not okay! You’re supposed to be the best setter,” Oikawa huffed, picking up the ball and tossing it to Tobio. “Here, set to me so I can spike.”

Tobio rolled his eyes, moving so he was under the ball and setting it to Oikawa with freakishly-good aim. 

“You sure your team’s doing fine without you? They must be having a hard time without your sets.”

Tobio scowled, turning his head away. He seemed to shudder in wind, even though the breeze was warm and comforting, like a light blanket. “They’ll be fine.”

“Do you not get along with your friends, Tobio-chan?”

“They’re not my friends!” Tobio erupted, turning back towards Oikawa with his fists clenched and his posture rigid. 

Oikawa held his hands up in a surrendering gesture and strode over to where the ball had rolled to. “Okay, I get it. You’ll find better teammates in high school, I’m sure.”

* * *

“You’re the best junior-high-school setter, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa told him the final summer day before Tobio began high school, poking a stick against Tobio’s calf in the morning just before lunch. “You’d better come back next year as the best high-school setter.”

“I’m only going to be a first-year, Oikawa-san. There will be people there better than me. I heard that Shiratorizawa and Aoba Johsai have really good setters.”

“You’re in high school, now.”

Tobio sighed, the slightest tinge of frustration coloring his voice as he tossed the volleyball above his head, pillowed gently on a bed of soft, untrimmed grass. “Yes, we’ve established that already—”

“You’re almost as old as I’m supposed to be… the age I look like.”

Tobio caught the ball, turning his head towards Oikawa. “Eighteen, right, Oikawa-san?”

“We’re the same age. You shouldn’t need to call me that anymore.”

“You’re still way older than me, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa deftly ignored the jibe.

“Call me Tooru. That’s my given name.”

“Tooru-san.”

“Just Tooru.”

“...Tooru.”

Tobio then smiled at Tooru, a gentle, fleeting glimpse of happiness that made the air gush out of Tooru’s lungs like a late summer breeze. Tooru pulled the mask sitting by his side back on in order to hopefully hide the pink blush he was sure painted his cheeks.

“Do you want to come with me to the spirits’ festival tonight? Since it’s your last day as a middle schooler, and all,” Tooru asked, laying on the grass a safe distance away from Tobio.

“Sure. Do you have a yukata?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“I do.”

That was left at that.

* * *

Tooru thought he was prepared to see Tobio in a yukata. He was _thoroughly_ _ unprepared _ . 

Dressed in a simple but classic navy-blue yukata that matched his eyes, Tobio showed up at the steps of the Torii, lit in a glowing halo by the full moon.

Tobio seemed to have a lot of fun at the festival. Tooru would know, because he spent the entire time looking at Tobio’s reactions from the privacy of his mask. The tiny little expressions that no one else would notice—the way his mouth slightly opened whenever he was concentrating, the way his eyes widened in surprise, the way his eyebrows creased ever-so-slightly whenever he was frustrated—Tooru soaked them all in with a renewed thirst.

He didn’t really remember what they did during the festival. He only remembers Tobio’s face as he laughed—suddenly, loudly, and so unlike himself—after accidentally mistaking a vendor’s face for a mask.

After the had their fill of food and games, Tobio and Tooru escaped down one of the forest paths by the lake. 

“I had fun, Tooru,” Tobio said quietly, tugging on the silk sash they had tied to their wrists so they wouldn’t lose one another in the chaos. “A lot of fun.”

Tooru chuckled and tugged back. “I did, too, Tobio-chan.”

He stepped in front of Tobio’s path, tugging his mask free. With a careful hand, he placed the mask over Tobio’s face and placed a kiss over one of the cheeks. He pulled back with the corners of his lips upturned, laying a hand on Tobio's shoulder, over the fabric. He kept it there just long enough to feel Tobio's warmth seep into his fingertips. “The most fun.”

As a group of children suddenly made their presence known from behind them, Tooru stepped away from Tobio in their questionable position. As the children squealed and ran past Tooru, one tripped on his sandals. 

Tooru gasped, quickly reaching out to catch the young spirit boy by his arm before he fell and hurt himself.

“Thank you, mister,” the boy said once he was safely back on his feet, bowing curtly and running to catch up with his friends. 

Tobio watched the boy go with a small smile on his face. “Remember when I was clumsy like that? It’s a good thing he wasn’t hurt.”

Usually, Tooru would respond or acknowledge Tobio’s musings. But he didn’t this time. “Tooru—”

Tobio turned to Tooru, who was staring at his fingertips curiously. Originating from his hands like a brilliant firework, Tooru’s body began to disintegrate into thin air. Tobio stared, horrified.

“The boy wasn’t a spirit…” he whispered under his breath.

Tooru didn’t look sad, not even a little. Instead, he opened his arms, his entire body glowing brighter than the full moon behind him, presenting himself like the risen north star. 

A smile lifted at the corners of his lips. “Come here, Tobio, I can finally touch you.”

With the widened eyes of realization, Tobio tore the mask off, running forward to tackle Tooru in a hug. But Tooru took it one step forward and ducked his head to touch his lips to Tobio’s.

And there, with the soft touch of Tooru’s hair in his hands, wrapped in the embrace of silk sleeves and silk skin, his lips pressed—finally—to someone else’s, Tobio watched Tooru disappear in a burst of fireflies and burning embers. 

Tobio held the empty grey  yukata in his hands, still warm with the summer wind and the touch of skin, sobbing quietly into the fabric.


	2. Lifetime of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy ending we all deserved.

“We have a practice match with Aoba Johsai tomorrow,” Daichi, Karasuno’s volleyball team captain, told the team one day, much to Tobio’s surprise.

“What? Aren’t they one of the top four schools in the prefecture?!” Even after a week or so of being around Tanaka, his overbearing personality still seemed like overkill for Tobio. Tobio scowled and stepped closer to Hinata who he decided, at that very moment, was better to be closer to than Tanaka. (Not that he wanted to be particularly close to _either_ of them. Not like Tooru, whose presence was still overbearing and much too loud, but also familiar and comforting.)

“Top four? They’ve been the only school to challenge Shiratorizawa for the past two years at each tournament! They’re the second-best school, no doubt,” Suga corrected with a quick, placating tap to Tanaka’s head. “It’s an honor to play them.”

“They did have one condition, though,” Daichi says with a sigh, looking down at the note in his hand. He looked up, making direct eye contact with Tobio. “Kageyama has to play setter the whole time.”

“What?!” 

“That’s outrageous!”

“No way!”

“Suga-san’s our setter!”

“Calm down,” Suga soothed the team, obviously unsurprised by their reaction. “Daichi and I already talked about this. I’m okay with not playing setter because it means we’ll get to see how Hinata and Kageyama’s quick works against a power school. Kageyama? Are you okay with that?”

Tobio, caught off-guard, snapped to attention and bowed deeply. He took Tooru’s words about finding a better team and making friends to heart, and placed more effort in getting along with his peers. Showing respect was the best thing to do in any situation. “Yes! I’ll play well tomorrow!”

Tobio, as always, played well at the practice match.

Hinata, however, did _not_. His nerves caused him to play like a baby giraffe, shuddering on unsteady legs and tripping over stray balls he normally would be able to avoid with a loud shriek.

Tobio was furious. If he acted this way during a practice match, what would happen during an actual tournament? Not to mention, Aoba Johsai’s team didn’t even consist of their best players—most were first or second years, and their main setter was nowhere to be found.

Thankfully, Hinata managed to calm down after a disastrous serve and some threatening.

“Don’t act so triumphant now,” Tobio rolled his eyes after the team cheered Hinata’s winning spike on. He spun the ball in his hand, much like he would before a serve. The yellow and blue swirled together, like the sun and the blue sky of summers with Tooru. He wondered if the ball he left with Tooru was still somewhere on the mountain, hidden by stones and shrubs and dusted with a fine layer of dirt from the wind. Tobio pushed the thought out of his mind. “I don’t think their main setter is here yet. From what I’ve heard, he’s the center of the team. Who knows how much stronger they could get.”

“Don’t be such a downer, Kageyama,” Tanaka said, slinging an arm around Tobio’s shoulders, nearly knocking both of them off balance. “You seem to know a lot about the setter. Is he your senpai?”

“No,” Tobio felt his cheeks grow red at the sudden attention from his teammates and senpais. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him before—”

“Are you sure?” Daichi asked, wiping away the sweat on his brow even as it furrowed with his confusion. “It was their main setter that asked for you to play. I could have sworn it was your senpai or something.”

Tobio didn’t have a setter senpai at Kitagawa Daiichi. The one before him graduated just as Tobio entered the school, and they had just trained one of the wing spikers to be an emergency setter. Tobio’s talent quickly surpassed his senpai’s, and Tobio became a regular in his first year at Kitaichi.

“N-no, I really don’t think…”

“ _Yaho_ , Tobio-chan!”

Tobio froze.

_It couldn’t be_. 

He turned slowly, wishing and not wishing at the same time. To not get his hopes up. To not turn around, expecting to see something, only to see nothing and have his heart broken all over again.

Tooru stood there, in an Aoba Johsai tracksuit, very much _alive_ and _present_. His hair was as perfect as ever, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that somehow also seemed so happy and excited and full of love. He wasn’t highlighted by the sun, the trees, or the summer breeze but Tobio swore he could feel the warmth of the sun seeping into his skin; a warm, cozy blanket wrapping around him.

Tooru’s arms were spread wide open, like he was a showman presenting himself to the world. Like the day he disappeared. Like he hadn’t been _dead_ for the past month. But Tobio knew better; knew it was an invitation.

Tobio dropped the ball in his hand, tripping over his own feet until he was safe in the embrace that he never really knew but missed so much. They nearly tumbled down, with the force and momentum behind Tobio’s running leap. But Tooru’s legs kept them upright and his arms kept Tobio in a warm embrace, just like the hug from the summer when it all ended.

He didn’t blow away in a brilliant light show. Instead, his fingers clutched tighter at Tobio’s practice jersey and pressed into his skin like he were afraid Tobio would disappear. Tobio wanted to laugh at the irony, but he was too busy burying his tears into Tooru’s shoulder, whispering “ _how_ "s and " _I love you_ "s into the shirt that still smelled like the forest and freedom and happiness. 

This time, Tooru’s skin didn’t fade under his touch. This time, he didn’t disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I love happy endings.


End file.
